


Mean Machine

by tisfan



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-01-30 01:56:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21420298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Rhodey and Nebula have a lot in commonTony Stark Flash Bingo Card 006Cha 1 - NebulaCha 2 - FearCha 3 - Theft
Relationships: Nebula/James "Rhodey" Rhodes
Comments: 85
Kudos: 107
Collections: Tony Stark Flash Bingo





	1. Nebula

Jim patted Tony’s hand, blinking. He sat back to watch, even though there was nothing to see. Pepper, sitting on the other side of the bed. If she struggled to remain calm or composed, her struggle was so deep inside Jim couldn’t see it. Over the years, Pepper Potts had developed quite a poker face. 

The last month had not been easy on anyone, and then--

To have Tony so unexpectedly returned to them, that had been a gift. But as things always were with Tony, a gift that could bite. 

_We lost._

“You should go get something to eat,” Pepper said, drawing Jim’s attention. 

“Right.” He knew what being dismissed was. Years of practice in the military.

Well, a cup of coffee wouldn’t go amiss anyway. And Pepper wanted to have her breakdown in private, it wasn’t Jim’s place to insist. 

He had just done a quick glance at the caf to see if there was anyone there when a small something went flying at him, silver reflections glinting off--

He caught it without even thinking, crushing it in one hand before looking. A paper football?

“You don’t need to do that,” a soft, rough voice said. The woman who’d been on the ship with Tony was seated in the corner, an entire pile of paper footballs in front of her. They littered the floor near her table. “You’re just holding the position.”

“What?”

“Do you not know how to play? Sit down,” she said. “I will teach you.”

“I know how to play flickball,” Jim said, but he sat down with her anyway and made goalposts with his fingers. “You’re--”

“Nebula. Daughter of Thanos.”

Jim stiffened, and she flicked the paper ball neatly through his held fingers. 

“Do not be concerned. I am not your enemy.”

“You’re friends with Tony?”

She drew back a little cocking her head, and then set up her fingers for Jim to return the play. “I don’t have many friends. My friends did not survive Thanos’s plan. My sister was murdered at his own hand. Tony. Tony is my friend.”

Jim flicked the ball.

“You have also scored,” she announced. “Tie game. My turn. Tony-- Tony taught me to play. We had… we had fun.”

“That’s Tones for you,” Jim said. Her ball was high and outside, no points. They left it on the floor and Jim selected another one from the stack. They were fliers, missing posters. Thanos’s victims. Probably some had died in other ways, but it didn’t matter. The vanished were… gone. Beyond anyone’s reach. “Making friends and influencing people.”

“He is… almost all that I have,” Nebula said, then she made a strange sound, like a cough, but not quite. 

“Not anymore,” Jim responded. “You got us now. Me, and Pepper, and everyone else who cares about Tony. You brought him home to us. My name’s Jim Rhodes--”

“I do not see the resemblance,” she said, abruptly.

“To what?”

“The platypus,” Nebula said, and her thin, blue lips twitched upward in what Jim might not have known was a smile, if he wasn’t looking for it so desperately.

Jim laughed. “Yeah, you’re Tony’s friend alright. What’s he call you?”

She hesitated, then offered, “Blue Meanie.”

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Well, Tones’ got some malnutrition going on, according to the docs, so we best feed you up, or you’ll be on a bed next to him.”

“Is he-- functioning?”

“He’ll snap back. Tony’s tough, you’ll see. Be up and ordering us around before you know it.”

“Then I will eat with you,” Nebula said. “And you can teach me other Terran games, while we wait for Tony to _snap back_.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Jim said. “Come on, you ever had pasta primavera?”

“I have not.”

“You’re gonna love it,” Jim promised.


	2. Fear

“So what’s with you an’ this Stark guy,” Rocket said. He didn’t ask, because the little rodent never asked anything. He made insinuating remarks and waited for you to correct him.

“Nothing,” Nebula said. “We are friends.” That was harder, still, to say. She had friends. Some friends.

They were all dead now. Except for Rocket.

And Tony Stark.

There was a strange fear to being all alone in the universe, and it was only strange because Nebula had felt it before. She’d been so used to being alone that having friends was the alien and strange thing.

And now she was alone again.

That hole was more painful than it had ever been.

She sat down on the bench, staring up into the sky. It was very pretty here, on Terra. Stared at the sky as if she could find her sister in the clouds. All she ever wanted was her sister. Friends. A quiet life. She’d never done anything as a child to deserve Thanos as a father. And he was still out there.

Still waiting.

Somewhere.

And she was afraid.

She didn’t quite fail to notice when Rocket left her; but she didn’t acknowledge it, either. Maybe it was easier not to have friends. Not to care about stupid little creatures and gangling, idiot Terran men, and bugs and their bodyguards.

Not to love anything that Thanos could take away.

“Hey there, Nebula,” a voice said, and she looked away from the sky enough to see Rhodes clanking his way across the courtyard. He had a basket under one arm.

“Rhodey,” she said, nodding and giving him some respect.

“You look a little blue,” he said, and then smiled as she turned her hands, confused. She was always blue. “It’s an earth saying. Means sad. Look, why don’t you come on up with me, see Tony. He’s feeling better, and would like some company. And I’ve got a goodie basket here. Which you can eat, because I know Tony, and Tones don’t eat nothin’ when he’s thinking, unless someone else is eating. So, win-win, you know.”

“I do not know,” Nebula said.

“Well, maybe not yet, mean machine, but you will, soon enough.”

Rhodey held out a hand to her, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, but she took it, and he pulled her lightly to her feet. His hand cupped under her elbow and she almost jerked away, not sure what he was doing, or why, but that soft, friendly smile on his face never faltered.

“What were you thinking about, so hard?”

“I was thinking about friends,” she said. “And what I will do now.”

“You lost most of your people, I know,” Rhodey said. “But you got more people here, now. You just stay a while, get your feet back under you. There’s plenty of time for plans, later.”

Nebula sighed. She was afraid.

Afraid she might have found another friend. Someone else that her father could take from her.

But when Rhodey’s hand dropped, she found she missed the weight of it, and she reached for him. Their fingers brushed, and then he was holding her hand, the way she’d seen that idiot, Quill, hold her sister’s hand.

_It is his way, _Gamora had said_, of saying that he likes me._

Maybe… maybe. 

But she was afraid.


	3. Theft

Stark was looking better. The others didn’t see it, because they hadn’t had the time to watch him grow thin and sick from infection. They hadn’t carried him to the captain’s chair so he could look out into the vastness of space.

They hadn’t mourned, thinking they were going to be alone in a space ship, waiting to die, and knowing it was going to be a very, very long wait.

So they saw him, weak and with tubes and machines hooked up to make him live, and they saw the anger and betrayal and grief on his face and they didn’t think “getting better.”

But they also didn’t see the way he clung to his woman, Potts, and the way he couldn’t stop looking at her. 

So when she and Rhodes walked into the hospital room, she offered him that rarest of gifts in her power to give. She smiled at him.

“Hey Blue Meanie,” Stark said. “How’s it hanging?”

She glanced over at Rhodes. “Was I supposed to hang something?”

“Naw,” Rhodes said. “It’s just Tones. He means, how are you?”

Nebula licked her lips, hesitated. “I am sad, but I have shared news of the others with Rocket. We are not alone in our loss. I am angry, because Thanos still lives. I am glad, that you are getting better. And I am happy, that I have made a new friend.” She gestured with one thin, blue hand, at the man, Rhodes. “He thought I would… want to see you. And I find you are doing better. Recovering.”

“Remind me not to ask,” Rhodes said, “if you look like you’re having a bad day. You’re the sort that would tell me.”

“Platypus, play nicely,” Stark said. “She’s a guest.”

Rhodes put the basket on the small table by Stark’s bed. “I brought you a bunch of things that you can be stupid about.”

He pulled out any number of small packages. “Dried blueberries, beef jerky, ice cream--”

“Stark Raving Hazelnuts?” Stark asked. A flicker of pain crossed Stark’s face.

“Of course. And you would not believe how hard it was to get a hold of,” Rhodes said. “The power grid went down here and there. Depended, I guess, if the wrong man got dusted at the plants. We were okay, with the arc-reactor, but--”

“Yeah, I get it. Beacon of hope and warm light for all mankind,” Stark said.

“Man, you can’t think like that,” Rhodes said. “This wasn’t anything any of us could have predicted. And you saved a lot of people, Tones.”

“In the grand scheme of half of all life in the universe,” Stark said, “I don’t think a few million in New York City who didn’t lose their air conditioning in the summer--”

“Banana bread,” Rhodes said, pulling out another package. “Mama made that, so don’t you go dissing on it.”

“Is it gluten-free?”

“Tony, that is my mama, no there ain’t no fancy gluten-free rice flour in her kitchen. Now eat your bread like you got some manners.”

“You want some, Blue Meanie?”

“I do not know, what is--” And Rhodes was already unwrapping the loaf; thick with nuts and fruit, heavy with sugar and butter. “Yes, I would like some banana bread. Please.”

Rhodes cut her a slab of bread and put it on a paper napkin. “Here you are,” Rhodes said. 

She sniffed at it, enjoying the rich scent of spices and fruit and little nuts inside. Tentatively, she took a bite.

Nebula wasn’t entirely sure what happened then. Before she knew it, she had practically inhaled the slice. It was sweet and heavy and full of butter and…

“Another?”

She held out the napkin, bare except for crumbs, eagerly. 

“Just help yourself, if you want more,” Rhodes said. “See, I like a person who eats when they’re fed.” Rhodes turned his attention back to Stark, talking about what had happened on earth after the Snap. After her father had killed half of the universe. 

She cut another slice of bread, not really listening. It was the same story, everywhere. Her father’s intentions might have been good, at some point, but it was shallow thinking. Anyone who had really lived in the world would have known it wouldn’t work. He was doing nothing but making things harder for everyone, and adding a burden of grief and guilt on top of that.

“Rhodes, Rhodey, platypus, sourpatch,” Stark was saying, his voice getting higher pitched and swifter with each name.

“What, Tony?”

“Rhodey, she ate all my banana bread!”

Rhodes looked at her, his eyebrow shooting up in an expression of impressed disbelief. “Well, then, maybe you shouldn’t be jawin’ and not eating.”

Stark gathered all the rest of the items from the basket into his arms. And then pulled his blanket over the stash. “Thief.”

“Did you like it?” Rhodes asked. “My mama made it special, she’s gonna be really happy, knowing _someone_ enjoyed it.”

“I did,” Nebula said. “It was. It was good.”

Stark tore open the package of blueberries, poured them all into his mouth. He resembled a chembran-mouse, and she almost told him so, except he wouldn’t know what that was. Except it had never stopped Stark, so she did.

“Ooonds ike a pster.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that sounds like a hamster. I speak rude white boy.”

“Go on, thief,” Stark said, throwing the empty bag of blueberries at her, his teeth stained.

“Come on, let’s see if we can’t find a TV in this place, get you some quality entertainment.” 

Stark was already tearing into another bag, eating in between glaring at Rhodes and Nebula. She gave Stark a little wave and followed Rhodes out of the room.

“That was perfect, I could kiss you,” Rhodes said.

“You could? Perhaps, if I would let you.”

Rhodes blinked at that. “Nope, hold up, hold that thought, I am not Captain Kirk, I do not go with the space babes just because they’re blue. Or green,” Rhodes said.

“Another of your figuring of speeches?” Nebula couldn’t decide if she was disappointed or not.

“I meant you eatin’ that banana bread,” Rhodes said.

“I should not have,” Nebula decided. “Now he is angry.”

“Nah, ain’t like that. Tones… he’s weird about food, don’t always eat even when he’s starving, and tends to offer it out to everyone else in the room first. But you-- eating all his bread like that? Now he’s got to make a Big Show about eating it. It’s good for him. I may hire you to come eat with us every meal.”

“Then we should make him some more of the bread,” Nebula decided.

“Yeah, girl,” Rhodes said. “You’re gettin’ the idea. I’ll teach you.”

“And then,” Nebula said, “after we make the bread, I will let you kiss me.”


	4. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December Flash Bingo - 014 - Resolution

“Okay, well, this isn’t ideal,” Rhodes said, looking around the grocery store. Nebula had been to markets on many other worlds, some even more exotic than Terra, but she wasn’t sure what was not ideal about the situation.

Aside from all the humans staring at her. On any other planet, she would have thought she was getting undue attention because she was Thanos’s daughter, but as far as the humans knew, she was no one in particular. Except an alien, and they didn’t, apparently, have very many of those on Terra.

That they knew of.

Quill had told her, it seemed like years ago now, that his father was an alien, but that no one had ever known it. Certainly not his mother, who died of cancer that his father had put in her.

At least she wasn’t the only damaged child in the universe.

The universe, she was coming to realize, was made up almost entirely of damaged children.

Nebula reached for her knife.

“Not hostile,” Rhodes said, quickly. “Just, well, look.” He waved one long fingered hand at the display.

Bananas. 

“What?”

“They’re not ripe,” Rhodes told her. “And for banana bread, that’s really important.”

“We will wait,” Nebula said, “and buy bananas later.”

“Nah,” Rhodes said. “We can buy them now, and they’ll ripen on the counter.”

“Then we will wait for them to ripen,” Nebula resolved. “What else do we need?”

“Butter, flour, sugar, vanilla, walnuts, eggs,” Rhodes said, reading off his list. “This way.” He linked his hand with hers, and she squeezed, light. She liked it, this linked hands, fingers twined together. 

“Why do they stare?” Nebula asked as they passed yet another group of humans.

“Well, for one thing, in case you hadn’t noticed, we don’t have a lot of blue people here on Earth.” Earth. What a stupid thing to call a planet. They may as well have called it _Dirt. _

“And the second thing?”

“They haven’t yet decided if blue means black, or if it means _white_.”

“I do not understand,” Nebula confessed.

“Well, I’m a black guy,” Rhodes said, “so, if they decide that you’re a black girl, it’s okay. But if you’re a white girl, it might not be okay.”

“You are not black,” Nebula said. “You’re brown. And I _am_ blue.”

“It’s a cultural thing,” Rhodes said. “They’ll probably decide you’re black. White girls don’t tend to shave their heads.”

“I do not shave my head,” Nebula said. “My people do not grow facial hair.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Rhodes said. “But humans like to put people in boxes.”

“I am not staying in any box,” Nebula said, free hand going to her knife again. She would kill anyone who tried it.

“It’s not a literal box,” Rhodes said. “People just like to classify; you’re blue, I’m black, Tony’s white. Like that. And they prefer that if I’m dating you, you should also be black.”

“Are we-- dating?” Since that seemed the more important question.

“Well, I like you,” Rhodes said. “I get the feeling you like me. Don’t know what we’re doing is dating, not just yet. Pre-dating.”

“I like you. You will let me know, when we are doing the dating,” Nebula said. “And we will dance.” Her sister used to dance with Quill; Gamora and her human, dancing to the music of Terra. Nebula thought she might _like_ dancing.

“I don’t think I’ll ever quite get used to that,” Rhodes said. “You just saying a thing.”

“Am I not supposed to?” Her father had often liked her to shut up, daughters being good for fighting and for looking decorative. 

“Terran girls don’t always say what’s on their mind,” Rhodes said. “They make you guess.”

“That would be… a poor use of time,” Nebula decided. Rhodes just laughed, which was a nice sound, and he squeezed her fingers, which was even nicer. “We are dating. It is decided.”

“All right, then,” Rhodes said. “_Dating_. We’ll do dancing--” Someday. When the world had recovered from what her father had done. When there was music to dance to and a place to go. When Stark was better.

They rang up, Rhodes paid with a plastic card that he kept in his pocket. 

When they returned to the Compound, Rhodes unloaded their supplies and, as promised, put the not-ripe bananas on the counter. They were green. “We’ll just sit these here and wait a spell,” Rhodes said. “In the meanwhile, you want to learn to dance?”

“Yes.”

***

Rhodes taught her to dance. She taught him to pilot the Milano.

She let him kiss her.

He let her kiss him.

He taught her a few other places that were interesting to kiss. This was good, useful knowledge and she applied it liberally. Which led to some other lessons.

It did take them a while to recover, and a few days had passed before she thought about the banana bread again.

“Rhodes,” she said, coming into his room. “We must make the bread today!”

“Huh? Oh, nah, not yet,” Rhodes said.

“But they are ripe, Rhodes, we left them there for days!”

“Given everything we’ve been doing these last few days, you can call me Jim, you know.”

“I like… Rhodey,” she said. “That is what Stark calls you. That is what I will call you. But--”

“Don’t you touch those bananas, Nae-nae.”

“Rhodey--”

“Got something else for you to touch, if you’re that eager to do some work,” Rhodey said, that special, teasing smile on his mouth. 

“More kisses?”

“And some other things,” Rhodey said.

The bananas could wait.

***

“Rhodey,” Nebula said, “the bananas are ruined, we will need to get more.”

“What’s wrong with ‘em?”

“They are all brown and soft.”

“Then they’re just right,” Rhodey said. “Come on, Nae-nae, let’s make some banana bread.”

***

Stark took one look at them -- loaves of bread in hand -- and sighed. “You know, somehow, honeybear, I thought _I_ was going to be the one with the blue space girlfriend, and you would be the one settling down with a wife and a kid.”

“I always did make a better Kirk than you did,” Rhodey said.

Nebula looked at Pepper. “What are they speaking of?”

Pepper patted her arm. “You’re probably going to be sorry you asked. I’ll get the movie room set up. Bring the banana bread, it smells wonderful.”


End file.
